In A Dream
by MorbidbyDefault
Summary: Anthea isn't exactly feeling up to par. That's alright though, the man of her dreams is there to help her, right? MYTHEA! Because chaosisblue is sick, and this will hopefully get her off my back for another Mythea story. :P FEEL BETTER!


So, this is for my friend, Sarah, who is apparently dying and at home sick. When I took orange juice to her, she didn't seem to be on death's door, but whatever. Not taking any chances, so here's the Mythea story she's been after me for...for about 6 months! Ugh! I CAVE ALREADY!

**I do not own Mycroft, Anthea, or anything relating to Sherlock Holmes, the BBC, or Moffat/Gatiss.**

Enjoy!

**In a Dream**

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

She was a professional. She would _not_ let a little touch of the flu slow her down. Not today.

As Anthea made her way down the long and narrow hall that led to her boss's office, she bit back the sudden urge to sneeze. She knew the man who ran the government from the refurbished 'broom cupboard' would send her home immediately if he even suspected that she was falling ill. So, she now found herself silently battling the impending desire to let out sneeze after sneeze as she neared Mycroft Holmes's office.

"Ah, Anthea. I'm glad you..." she had only caught the beginning of his sentence, before his intelligent tone droned into a mumbled haze in her ears. The room spun a bit, and while her fingers felt cool to the touch, she felt like her blood was boiling underneath her skin. She briefly wondered if the marble flooring was as cold as it looked, her body desperately wanting to lie down and soak in the frigid and smooth texture. She barely noticed as Mycroft moved forward in time to catch her, right before she collapsed.

"Anthea?"

OoOo

_It was sunny, the warmth of summer on her face and a soft breeze blowing through her long hair. She could smell freshly poured coffee (never enough sugar added in, he was watching his diet again). She could smell his aftershave (the slightest hint of soap still on his neck). _

"_My dear, you really must tell me when you're not feeling well. It's my ultimate priority to take care of you." His voice was smooth and quiet, she could feel his hand stroking her cheek lightly. The softness of his untroubled hands caused her to smile, and she turned toward his touch. _

"_I'm sorry, love. I didn't want to spoil today. I know it's important to you, even if you pretend it's not." She laughed a bit as he looked away, trying to hide a smirk of his own. She reached out to grab hold of his hand, placing it on the growing bump of her stomach._

"_We're both fine, Mycroft. I promise. Just, just go and see your brother. We'll both be here when you get home. Tell him his niece and I said Happy Birthday," she gave him a light shove, forcing him to stand before he fell off the side of their shared bed. As Mycroft stood to attention, he nodded to her, before bending down to kiss her forehead. He then moved down, doing the same to the contour of her belly._

"_I'll be home as soon as possible. Do try to rest." Anthea nodded her head, before shooing him away. He exited the room, before peeking his head back around._

"_Oh, and Anthea?" She looked up again, expecting to hear the words she'd always loved hearing him say like this._

"_Anthea?"_

"Anthea?_"_

"**Anthea?"**

She slowly opened her eyes, meeting a blurry vision of him. Once her eyes began to focus, she could only take in her surroundings one piece at a time. Starting with the concern laced on his features.

"M...Mycroft? What happened?" She turned her head to look around, and only managed to take in the fact that she was lying on the sofa in his office before her head swam with a dizzy fog. She closed her eyes again, rolling her head back onto the cool leather cushion of the sofa.

"You collapsed. You know you're supposed to inform me if you're ill. It's very important, Anthea. Now, judging solely on the flushed skin on your cheeks, I'd say your temperature is far too high for proper work conditions, much less the fact that you've been this way for the past three days. Am I right?" Mycroft gave her a pointed look, his brows raising on his forehead. She glanced away, looking positively ashamed.

"I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again. I just realized how important today was, and I knew you would need my assistance. It is the Queen's Jubilee, after all." Anthea shrugged her shoulders, chuckling softly, before she burst into a fit of coughing. With a sigh and roll of his eyes, Mycroft took it upon himself to hoist the woman up into a standing position. Her eyes remained tightly shut as he held onto her waist.

"Right, well I'm no longer in need of your assistance for the day. Anthea," she slowly opened her eyes, meeting his softened gaze of worry, "Go home. _Rest._ Whenever you are feeling right again, your assistance will be greatly helpful." He steered her toward the door, being sure to grab her coat and bag along the way. After walking her to the front door, Mycroft ensured that she was comfortably seated in the car, and instructed the driver to take her home.

"Mycroft?" He turned back to look at her pale face.

"Yes?"

"I'll see you at home, okay?" Anthea gave him a weak smile, before her head leaned against the back of the seat. Mycroft quickly returned to the car, opened the door, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"I'll tell Her Majesty you wish her well." Mycroft said, his face lighting up with a smile that was only reserved for her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Aaaaaand the end. I know it's short. But I hope it's enjoyable anyway, and I hope you feel better, because ya know, I want to hang out and stuff. K, thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
